


And You, My Friends

by mahwaha



Category: Free!
Genre: Friendship, Gen, I wanted to make them all kiss but instead I got this, Slice of Life, doting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahwaha/pseuds/mahwaha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never forget that you are loved, Makoto Tachibana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And You, My Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [muuchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/muuchan/gifts).



> Here's a little sugar to go with your breakfast of choice. I hope you enjoy it. c:

“Rei-chan, be quiet,” Nagisa shushes, “or Mako-chan will wake up.” 

“Nagisa-ku—”

Rei’s complaint dies on his tongue as Makoto’s feet flex, bare where they hang out past the futon’s edge. Both boys freeze while Makoto shifts, sucking a sigh that falls heavy in the cleared living room. It’s still cramped, of course; Nagisa had crowded two futons together for the three of them to squeeze onto, but neither was long enough for Makoto, and sneaking out from beneath the covers had been an event worthy of a medal. Nagisa shoots Rei a wide-eyed stare over his shoulder, plates shelved across his hands and forearms. Rei gapes back, glancing to the futon while Makoto scrubs at his face with his fist.

“Rei?” Yawning, Makoto pushes up on an arm to squint up at them. “Nagisa? What are you doing?” Sleep shadows each eye as Makoto watches Rei’s lips flap, nothing but breath coming out before he thrusts his own plate forward like a peace offering.

“We made you breakfast,” Rei says, words hurried like people gunning for the train. Nagisa hums in agreement, the spell of silence holding him still breaking as he swoops upon Makoto like a bread-winged bird. Sweet breads, puddings, jams, and more starch than substance threaten to spill over his plates' edges—fat rounds of anpan, cross-hatched hills of melonpan, oozing jam pan, delicate, sticky stacks of mirukurepu, a stealth agent Castella cake, a small army of purin cups, and a long, chocolate-drenched roll that had to be pulled apart to fit on its plate. Nagisa still has chocolate on his fingers, Makoto sees, when the plates of sweets are spread across his lap.

“Mako-chan, you should try this one first,” Nagisa says, sticking his finger in the edge of a jam pan before licking it clean. “Strawberry flavor is the best!”

“Makoto-senpai needs a more balanced breakfast, Nagisa-kun.” Rei frowns at the heaps of sweets and snacks upon Nagisa’s prepared plates, and sets his own at Makoto’s side—his miso soup is still steaming, discs of onion bobbing on the skin of its artfully brown depths, and he hopes that his mackerel stands up to snuff where it lounges over the rice. The spinach salad set aside in its own bowl has a menagerie of color and decadence, and the tamagoyaki on the plate beside it speaks of nothing but precision. When Rei sinks down at Makoto’s side, opposite of Nagisa, his smile pulls a proud line. “I combined taste and presentation while keeping in mind that Makoto-senpai would need extra protein for his muscular development, and nutrients to keep both his mind and body healthy. I even asked Gou-san for her input, yesterday.”

“Wow, Rei-chan, that’s thorough! Why don’t you make me breakfast like that?” Nagisa’s brows arch as he looks to Rei, but shifts his attention when Makoto laughs between them. It’s a light, helpless sound, but matches the kind curve of his lips.

“Nagisa. Rei. You made all of this for me?” He knows, already, that he can’t possibly eat it all. He also knows that Nagisa and Rei will likely help—Nagisa by his enthusiasm, and Rei by being steamrolled into it by Nagisa, of course. Makoto palms the side of his neck, reaching up to card his fingers through his hair as Nagisa surges forward.

“The best sleepovers have the best breakfasts when they’re over, Mako-chan,” he says, beaming as he braces his hands on Makoto’s thigh. It’s a feat unto itself, considering how little thigh is left from the plates filling his lap.

“And we wanted to do something nice for you,” Rei adds, eyes soft as he studies his own lap and scratches his cheek. “Especially since the three of us are hardly ever alone together, and with Haruka-senpai and Rin-san away...”

The smile on Makoto’s face falters with surprise, but flickers before swelling back with warmth. He reaches out to put an arm around both Nagisa and Rei, chuckling once before guiding them to him in a hug. It’s awkward and cumbersome while buried beneath food and surrounded on all sides—the blanket restricts his legs, and the pillow tucks in against his lower back, but it’s almost too warm with bodies flanking his. It doesn’t change the affection behind the gesture, though, or the way that Nagisa laughs sharp and bubbling as he cuddles to Makoto’s side. Rei’s face glows from where it stiffly rests against Makoto’s chest, but as the line of his shoulders ease he winds an arm back behind Makoto to return the hug.

“It’s good of you to think about me like that,” Makoto mumbles, soft like body heat seeping into a pillow. He gives them both a firm, one-armed squeeze before flashing his trademark smile: eyes closed, mouth gentle, and face lit up like a stray shaft of sunshine breaking through the clouds. He feels Nagisa nuzzling into his armpit at the same time that he feels Rei’s fingers cinch the fabric at his back, and Makoto clasps their shoulders and hopes that they know how they’ve made him feel. The sleepover had been impromptu, the night before; Gou had gone out for milk tea with the three of them, and Makoto had spent their time together watching Nagisa and Rei squirm across the table from him in between ducking their heads together to whisper while they thought he wasn’t looking. (Like when he picked up their drinks at the counter. Makoto had heard Rei’s whispering become urgent and...not much of a whisper. Something like, “can’t just kidnap Makoto-senpai, Nagisa-kun!”)

At the time, Makoto wasn’t sure what they wanted, or why kidnapping had to be involved. He’d thought, correctly, that it would be best to sit and wait for them to come to him with whatever needed smoothing over. When Gou left for home, Rei had offered to walk him home in the same breath that Nagisa demanded his company, because he had “all of these animated movies about cats,” and “Rei-chan will need someone strong to support him when he cries!”

Of course, he’d soothed Rei when Rei became adamant about not crying for more reasons than Makoto could shake a stick at, but mostly because “it’s just not beautiful!” It hadn’t occurred to him that they were going out of their way to spend time with him, even with the gaping sense of absence in Haru’s house or the tumult of feelings in his chest about the distance between Australia and Iwatobi. He loved Haru and Rin, loved them to a fault, and that meant he felt happy to see Rin take charge and show Haru the world. It didn’t change the streak of guilt that colored the feeling of loneliness, though. Of not fitting in that world, even though he had found his future.

It's clear that he does belong, now. Here. He belongs with his friends, no matter where in the world they live or how often he sees them. That’s something that Rei and Nagisa seem to understand, even as Nagisa snakes a hand toward the nearest melonpan and Rei pins him with a scandalized stare.

“Rei-chan, don’t look at me like that! Mako-chan doesn’t mind, right Mako-chan? And I’m so hungry!” Nagisa sits up as Makoto’s arms slip down, braced on the futon behind his friends as Rei leans over Makoto’s lap with a frown.

“We made this breakfast for Makoto-senpai. At least let him have the first bite, Nagisa-kun.” When Rei leans back, his arms cross before he reaches up to rub his eyes beneath the frames of his glasses. “I saw you go through three melonpans while you were unwrapping everything.”

“I’m a growing boy,” Nagisa whines, shoving back into Makoto’s chest to cling to the front of his shirt. “Aren’t I, Mako-chan? We can take the first bite together! You can have one side of the melonpan, and I can have the other, and Rei can eat that bitter spinach st—”

“It is not bitter! It’s a clean taste.”

“Not sweet at all, Mako-chan! It’s like eating grass—”

“Nagisa-kun!”

“Nagisa,” Makoto says, hand moving to hover in front of his smile. He knows he shouldn’t be laughing at them, but it’s a good feeling and he can’t quite help himself. “Rei. Let’s all eat together.”

When he sees Nagisa’s impish grin and Rei’s delayed smile, and the way that they both look to him—soft, affectionate, and overwhelmingly sweet—it makes his chest fill swell with gratitude. He nods to them, and they all scoot together around the plates.

“Itadakimasu.”


End file.
